Lullaby
by DixonVixen93
Summary: Strong Enough Snippet: Orwell finds comfort in the lullaby she sings to her baby every night. Vince/Orwell


**Hey everyone! This story is just another snippet taken from the "The one who watches Orwell" universe. I could have put this into the snapshots, but I really believe this one deserves it's own slot. Hope you all enjoy it!**

**I do not own the Cape or the rights to "Brahms Lullaby."**

_**Lullaby**_

Ever since Matthew Faraday was a newborn, Orwell sang him the same song every night. As a child, "Brahms Lullaby" was one of her favorite songs. One of her most vivid memories she had of her mother dealt with that song. The blogger remembered sitting in her mother's lap, singing along to it as her mother hummed the tune.

Now she sat in a rocking chair herself and passed that most cherished moment to her son. As he grew, Orwell could see just how well he liked the song just by the expressions on his tiny face.

Vince loved to come into the room and hear his wife singing the lullaby. The mother always hated when he would sneak in just to hear her sing their baby to sleep. He told her that she had the voice of an angel, not that she believed him anyway. He always wondered why she chose _that _song. One night he had the perfect opportunity to find out.

It was on a cool autumn night. Baby Matthew had been fussy off and on all day. When the blogger finally got him calmed down, she had him in her arms as she lied down on her bed. Vince had an early work call unfortunately, that left Orwell alone with the baby and Trip all day.

The blogger looked down at the six month old in her arms and ran her fingers through the dark brown hair that had started to grow on top of her baby's head. "There, there. You're being a little angel for mommy. Daddy will be happy to see that when he gets home."

Matthew gurgled and smiled at his mother to which Orwell continued with, "You may not realize it yet but you mean so much to us," she pressed a finger to her baby's nose. "That little song I sing to you every night? My mommy used to sing it to me."

The baby raised his arm to clutch the brunette's cheek. "Ba-ba-ba," he sang.

Orwell turned her head to glance over at the clock on her nightstand. The digital numbers read 10:32 PM. The mother clutched her son to her hip and got up from the bed. Orwell left the room and headed straight for Matthew's nursery. As she sat down in the rocking chair, the six month old's blue eyes lit up and he began to babble. She began to rock back and forth in the chair, humming along to her son's favorite lullaby.

Unbeknownst to the blogger, her husband had just got home from work. Vince came inside and spoke to his elder son before heading upstairs to see his wife and baby. As he walked up the stairs, he could hear Orwell's soft hums. A smile etched onto his features once he approached the door to the nursery. Vince knocked lightly on the door, in return he was given a sweet glance from the blogger who never stopped humming.

The Cape came into the room and dropped a kiss on the top of his wife's head. "How's he doing?"

Orwell looked back down at Matthew once more just in time to see his eyes close. "Well he's asleep now," she whispered. With that, she gently got up from the rocking chair and placed her son in his crib.

When she turned around, the blogger was met with a smile from Vince. He walked over to the crib and pulled the bar down as he leaned down to place a kiss on Matthew's sleeping form. Vince pulled the bar back up and turned on the mobile above his head.

Orwell spoke in a whisper, "I'm going to lay down," the vigilante met with his wife's eyes as she continued, "Would you like to join me?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there baby," Vince said.

The blogger spared him a tiny smile before she swayed out of the room. Vince called to his baby, "Sleep tight little man," before turning off the over head light and closing the door.

He always hated when he had a long work shift. Matthew was growing every day and he knew it wore his wife out. Anytime he could, Vince let Orwell sleep in. Of course, she always yelled at him later for it, but she needed the rest.

The Cape made his way to his and Orwell's bedroom where she was lying down reading a book. Vince smiled and plopped down on the bed next to her. The blogger looked over at her husband to which he took the book out of Orwell's hand.

"I was reading that," the blogger spoke with a smirk in place.

"Yeah well now you aren't," Vince said as he took her bookmark, stuck it in the open page and shut the book. The vigilante set the book aside and pulled his wife closer.

Orwell smiled at him. "Fine. We'll talk. How was your day dear?"

"Who said anything about talking?" Vince asked as he kissed the blogger on the neck.

His wife placed a hand on the side of his face and began to kiss him. "You're too cute."

The Cape hovered over Orwell as he said, "Yeah? Tell me about it."

"You wish," the blogger spoke above a whisper. She then turned away from her husband.

Vince chuckled and swiped the hair off of his wife's neck. "I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"Well isn't that nice," Orwell joked.

"What, no love for your husband?" Vince asked.

"Maybe," the blogger turned back over and beamed at him.

Vince stroked her cheek lovingly. With all playfulness out of his eyes, she could only see affection.

"I love you too honey," Orwell spoke gently and pressed her head to his chest.

The vigilante rested his chin on the top of her head and wrapped her in an embrace.

There was a peaceful silence for a moment. All they could hear was each other's breathing. No TV to blare over their voices. No children awake to need them. Just Vince and Orwell.

The blogger breathed in the scent of her husband and with a faint smile on her face she began. "Matthew wouldn't stop crying today. I barely knew what to do."

Vince moved his chin to kiss the top of her head, "I think you handled it just fine."

"That was after he stopped crying," Orwell said.

"Babe you do great with the kids. Matthew loves that lullaby you sing to him," Vince spoke.

"I learned it from the best," the blogger started with a small voice.

"Your mom?" Vince asked.

"Mhm," Orwell paused to lift her head and brought it to Vince's pillow. They stared at each other for a moment before she continued, "My mother always sang Brahms Lullaby to me. It's actually one of my most vivid memories of her."

"Well our son absolutely loves it. Even I love it. I can fall asleep to your beautiful voice any night," the vigilante said with a smile.

His wife leaned closer and latched her lips onto his. After about a minute later, they finally broke apart. When they did so, she asked, "How long have you been practicing that speech?"

Vince, still a little shocked by the kiss he just received, replied with, "Not long actually."

The blogger smirked and pressed their foreheads together. "Well I think that's sweet."

"Maybe I should think of more sweet things to say," Vince started as a grin ate away at his features.

"Vince, just shut up and kiss me," the brunette blogger spoke.

Of course, the Cape didn't need to be told _that _twice.

**So how was it guys? This is Orwell, signing out.**


End file.
